


Of Cages and Care

by gold_ty95



Series: Of Roommates With Benefits [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - College/University, BDSM, Bottom Lee Taeyong, Chastity Device, Cock Cages, Dom Suh Youngho | Johnny, Edgeplay, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Porn With Plot, Roommates, Sub Lee Taeyong, Subspace, Top Suh Youngho | Johnny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:00:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26463067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gold_ty95/pseuds/gold_ty95
Summary: "The cock cage had been a stupid gift Yuta gave him when they all played Secret Santa, meant to be just a joke. At the time, he’d laughed along with others at the mere idea of using something like that. Him, Lee Taeyong, purposefully wearing a chastity device? Never."Yet here he is.
Relationships: Lee Taeyong/Everyone, Lee Taeyong/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Series: Of Roommates With Benefits [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1923760
Comments: 14
Kudos: 196





	Of Cages and Care

**Author's Note:**

> QUICK WARNING  
> In this series, I've already mentioned that Taeyong suffers from OCD and mysophobia, but I'd still like to warn anyone in case you're easily triggered. I kept the descriptions to a minimum and based them off personal experiences with people who do suffer from similar disorders/phobias, so they might not affect you at all.

Taeyong feels like he’s going to die.

It takes a lot to admit this, considering how much he prides himself in his ability to handle things well and deal with his constant workload gracefully. He’s Lee fucking Taeyong, one of the top students at his college, the boy most likely to be seen with his nose stuffed in a book at the library ninety percent of the time—and yet still manages to half-time at a café.

Yeah, he can deal with his shit. He’s organized, notorious for being calm and collected when he needs to, and constantly being watched by the eyes of predators trying to find a crack in his “façade”.

And yet, Taeyong feels like he’s going to die.

He’s at the back of the café, taking a short break he’d stolen from his coworker, Seulgi, after she agreed to switch spots with him. He thinks he must be looking like real shit for her to have given over her precious few minutes of freedom so easily.

And even if he does look like he’s been hauled up and down a flight of stairs, what does it matter? Contrary to popular belief, Taeyong wears his emotions on his sleeve. He doesn’t care about what others think of him, there isn’t a “façade”, there’s just him, his OCD and the overwhelming need to get things done for his own sake, and for nobody else’s.

Which is getting increasingly difficult with the situation he’s found himself in.

Admittedly, he should have known teasing Johnny wouldn’t be the best idea. But between having his ass rammed to the point that he could barely walk and being forced to keep a vibrator in his pants for as long as he’d been told, Taeyong didn’t think Johnny had it in him to come up with a punishment that would, well, _punish_ him. 

But boy, was he wrong. He’d been stupid enough to think that anything Johnny gave him, be it his so-called “punishments” or his rewards, he’d be able to enjoy to the fullest. Taeyong isn’t the prude he’s been made out to be, no, he thrives with sex, it’s what drives him to get his day done. He’ll spend hours studying and working his ass off with the knowledge that when he gets home, to his shared flat, there will be at least one man willing to fuck the stress right out of him.

Which is fucking phenomenal, by the way. Johnny, Jaehyun and Yuta, they know how to read him. He’s known them for years now, one more than the other, and he’s happy to give them his full trust. Sicheng too, of course, but he’s only been living with them for five months or so, and Taeyong still isn’t sure how to share with him his long list of kinks. Though, if he thinks about it, he’s pretty sure they’d match up with Sicheng’s own, judging by what Yuta tells him.

But the fact of the matter is that he miscalculated. Johnny’s confidence had only grown over the many months they’ve been friends with benefits—though Taeyong thinks all friendships should have these “benefits”, thank you very much—and his assertiveness along with it.

What used to be a gentle, sweet man even when he tortured the living daylight out of Taeyong, became a rough, demanding and sometimes downright mean dom. And Taeyong absolutely loves it.

Which is why he wanted to push some buttons, rile him up just to see how far he’d go. It wasn’t much, really. He just walked around the house in baggy tees and short shorts, was even more a brat during their scenes and popped his tongue out of his mouth, seemingly distracted, when he knew Johnny had been looking.

Ahem. Turns out that was a fucking mistake.

At first, he’d gotten what he’d expected—and wanted. Johnny had been rougher and meaner, he’d fucked Taeyong over the counter, against the wall, and finally on the bed when he could no longer keep himself up. He’d jerked him off until he was about to come and then stopped moving completely, bringing him to the edge and back over and over and over again. 

And Taeyong loved every second of it. The torture was always great, and worth it in the end when he finally got to come.

Only this time, he didn’t.

He’d been told to go soft before, namely by Sicheng, who probably couldn’t go one week without completely denying a sub their orgasm. Except those times he’d only make Taeyong keep it in for a couple hours, at most. Then he’d be rewarded with a blowjob or fingers in his ass to make him reach his peak and milk his high.

But there’d been none of that. No, Johnny had gone feral on him about a day ago, and Taeyong has yet to shoot his load. Under any other circumstance, he would just jack himself off. He _needs_ it, he feeds off his sexual pleasure. He’s like an incubus, for fuck’s sake.

There are two problems, though. The first one being that Johnny has so much dominance in him that Taeyong thinks he’d be able to hear his stern, flat orders even if he so as much as rubbed himself up against a pillow. Taeyong’s a brat just as much as he is a good boy, he wants someone to tell him what to do but he also wants to be held and reassured that he’d been good. He won’t disobey an order as blatant as Johnny’s _don’t come until I say you can_ even if he could.

Which he can’t, because of problem number two: the plastic cage his cock is in. 

Jesus. Taeyong feels like he’s going to die.

“Fuck,” he mutters, pressing his palms against his searing cheeks to cool them down and find some sort of resemblance of being put together.

Johnny was mean, but Taeyong never thought he’d be this _cruel_. The cage had been a stupid gift Yuta gave him when they all played Secret Santa, meant to be just a joke. At the time, he’d laughed along with others at the mere idea of using something like that. Him, Lee Taeyong, purposefully wearing a chastity device? Never.

And yet here he is, flushing furiously with his cock locked up, and so, so fucking turned on it’s nearly painful.

The cage doesn’t feel like anything he’d expected. It’s as suffocating and constricting as he’d first thought—but that’s implied with the word _cage_ in itself. What he hadn’t expected was just how foreign it felt to be so incredibly turned on and yet physically incapable of getting hard.

His stomach swoops in arousal just at the very thought of being owned like this. He can’t get himself out of the cage, the key’s with Johnny. And yeah, he knows that if he really wanted to, if he was beyond desperate, all he’d have to do was say the word and Johnny would come rushing to pop him free. 

But as painful and torturous as it feels, the last thing Taeyong wants is to have it taken off.

“Fuck,” he says again, this time a bit louder.

There’s a loud clank behind him as the door bursts open and Seulgi steps out, ponytail disheveled and pulled more towards one side than the other. Taeyong barely manages to stop himself from pulling it until it’s even.

“Are you gonna stand there, swearing,” she snarls, “or are you gonna come help me with the pushy tourist who can’t fathom why I don’t speak english?” 

“Coming,” Taeyong says, but she’s already whipped around.

He pats his cheeks, takes one step inside and pauses. That wasn’t right, he stepped in with his left foot. He doesn’t have time to acknowledge the sinking feeling in his chest, though, because Seulgi is snatching his wrist and pulling him out towards the counter.

His mind becomes a great big mess, and a small voice in the back of his head insists that if he doesn’t go back outside and step in with his _right_ foot, the café is going to go up in flames. But he can’t do that now, so he does what his talk therapist has told him repeatedly and puts all his focus on anything but his obsessiveness.

Between a blonde American cussing at him in a language he doesn’t fully understand—he catches the few words Johnny and Jaehyun say a lot, and remembering the circumstances in which they say them nearly makes him blush—and the plastic bars digging into the flesh of his dick, he chooses to focus on the latter.

It might nearly cost him his job, but it works.

By the time his shift ends, Taeyong thinks both he and his dick might explode. He’s ready to sprint right out of the place and, luckily, his close friend and coworker, Ten, arrives without a second to spare as his replacement.

“Hey, Yong,” he chirps, making a move to pat Taeyong’s hair, but he swivels away from the offending hand.

“Ew,” he says. “And hi to you too.”

“Leaving so soon?” Ten asks when he sees Taeyong grabbing his things.

“My shift is over, of course I’m leaving.”

“Without even giving me a kiss?”

Taeyong looks at him from where he’d been fiddling with his locker, one brow raised as he says, “The last time you tried to kiss me here Seulgi yelled at us for a good half hour.”

Ten pouts.

“So no kiss?”

“No kiss.”

“Ugh, fine.” Ten rolls his eyes and Taeyong watches as he changes into his work clothes, trying not to grimace at the fact that he still hasn’t washed his hands since he’d arrived. “Baby, if you keep looking at me like that we’re going to have a problem.”

Taeyong barks a laugh and glances away, shaking his head. Like he’d mentioned, nearly all his friendships came with “perks”, and Ten was no exception. In fact, Ten had been the one to first introduce him to this mess of a lifestyle that he’s come to love. 

He really appreciates everything they’ve done together. With him, Taeyong could feel comfortable and free to say whatever stupid thing came to mind, and it was because of this that he learned about various things, like open relationships. They’d been together for a couple of months, but after a few grimacing dates and awkward movie nights, they decided it was best to stay friends, and Taeyong couldn’t have it any other way.

Of course, they still have sex. That hasn’t changed at all. But neither of them are in a relationship this time around. At least Taeyong isn’t, but judging by the dark hickeys coating Ten’s neck, he might be the only one.

“You’re a tease,” Taeyong says, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “And I’m leaving.”

“Wait, come here.” Ten quickly washes his hands and pats them dry before turning around to face him. There’s an unreadable look on his face, which makes him even more unpredictable than he already is, and by god is Ten unpredictable. 

So much so that the last thing Taeyong would’ve expected was for him to outright grip his groin. He doesn’t have the time to stifle the loud gasp he lets out.

“Ten!”

“You’re _caged_ ,” Ten hisses, and when Taeyong looks up he sees a horribly proud grin on his face. “I knew something was up, you looked far too flustered.” His fingers are quick when they trace the outline of Taeyong’s dick over the fabric of his pants and send his world spinning.

Taeyong takes a second too long to snap back into reality, but when he does he scrambles to push Ten’s hand away and escape his hold.

“Jesus, Yong, I knew you were a whore, but this is outright slutty, even for you.”

“Ten!” Taeyong feels his cheeks flare up. “Don’t say shit like that when we’re in a fucking café!”

“It was Johnny, wasn’t it?”

Taeyong narrows his eyes.

“How did you know that?”

When Ten smiles this time, it’s sweeter and less threatening. Again, there’s a sparkle in his eyes that Taeyong can’t quite understand.

“He’s out there, waiting for you.”

“Oh.” Once again, Taeyong feels his cheeks flush, but this time with something different. “Oh, okay.”

Ten’s smile widens.

“Now get out of here.”

Taeyong nods and whips around, but he hesitates a bit in his steps. It isn’t unlikely for him to see his roommates out of their dorm, they do go to the same college, after all. But Ten said Johnny had been waiting for _him_ , which is unusual. Between exams, part-time jobs and overwhelming school workload, he didn’t think Johnny would have the time to just stop by.

Maybe he’s overthinking it.

Yeah, he’s definitely overthinking it.

He doesn’t realise his heart has sped up until he steps out of the place—again on his left foot, but even the voice inside his head is too distracted to bother him about it—and sees Johnny in all his soft sweater and light jeans glory.

“Hey, stranger,” Johnny says.

“Hey, bitchass.”

To his surprise (and delight), Johnny’s caught off guard and splutters after him when Taeyong walks right past him. 

“Hey,” he says, and Taeyong doesn’t miss the light growl in his voice. He resists a shudder when Johnny grabs his wrist and keeps it in a harsh grip. “How do you still have it in you to be such a brat when you _know_ I can keep you in there for as long as I want?”

It’s whispered against his ear, so close Taeyong thinks he might just bite it off. 

He kind of wishes he would, but that’s a thought he is _not_ going to unpack now.

“S-sorry,” he stutters, because he’s a brat, but he isn’t _stupid_. Johnny has him in the palm of his hand, and Taeyong can’t predict what he’s going to do with him.

Johnny doesn’t say anything, only gives him one hard look before he’s walking down the street, pulling Taeyong with him.

And although he can’t foresee the future, Taeyong knows one thing’s for sure: he’s fucked. 

Jaehyun and Sicheng are both sitting on the couch when they get home, and Taeyong, having been dangling between subspace and reality for the better part of the day, is finally pushed over the edge when he sees the half-dressed, fucked out state they’re in.

It comes in a weird wave of giddiness and anxiety that mingles in the pit of his stomach. He’s familiar with it all, including the fuzziness in his mind, but he’s far more nervous than usual and stops short at the front door, heart beating rapidly.

“Yong?” Jaehyun calls out, the smile that’d been on his face dropping. “Are you okay?”

“I…”

“He’s fine,” Johnny says, pressing a firm hand against his lower back. It serves as a comfort, grounds him and wheels him back before he dives too deep. But he knows it’s a warning as well, a warning that tells him his focus shouldn’t be on anybody else. 

When Taeyong looks up, he doesn’t see the sweet, soft Johnny. It’s like a switch has been flipped and all that’s left is a dom more than willing to take care of him, and that’s what he needs the most. He hears Sicheng say something, but doesn’t really process it. He doesn’t need to, because at that moment he isn’t in charge of his body, he’s _Johnny’s_ , and Johnny’s only.

So, without a second of contemplation, he lets himself be guided down the hall and into a room that smells entirely like the man behind him. He doesn’t mask his anxiety, lets it bleed into the furrow of his brow and the curl of his lips, and Johnny, ever so attentive, doesn’t seem to miss it.

“Baby,” he whispers, closing the door behind him. “None of that.” He brings a thumb up to smooth the crease on Taeyong’s forehead, and the mere touch of skin on skin is enough to send sparks tingling down his spine.

Being with Johnny has always felt safe. Not to say it doesn’t with the others, but Johnny has such an incredibly calm aura that Taeyong can’t help but rely on. Even nowadays, when he’s been rougher and meaner, Taeyong hasn’t doubted his trust in him, not even for a second.

Johnny always gives him what he wants, even if he doesn’t know what that’d be. Like now, when his mind is too blurred and the only thing he can think of is the painful pressure he feels on his dick. 

“You’ve been good?” Johnny asks, gently cradling his face. He swipes Taeyong’s cheek softly when he doesn’t answer. “Taeyong, have you been good?”

“Yes,” he says, letting his eyes flutter shut. It earns him a few taps on his cheek.

“Look at me, I’m speaking to you.” He does, and he feels his stomach flip at the sight of Johnny’s stern gaze. “Kept your cock nice and locked up for me, didn’t you?”

“I-I did.”

“And what do you need now?”

Taeyong opens and closes his mouth, unsure of what to say. He feels his hands start to sweat and curls them into fists at his side, digging his nails into his palms for some sort of support. But Johnny won’t have that, and takes both his hands into his own, massaging the knuckles softly but never looking away.

“I want to come, Johnny.”

Johnny tuts and quirks a brow. There’s a slight frown on his lips and Taeyong knows that isn’t the answer he wanted.

“I didn’t ask what you wanted,” Johnny says. “I asked what you needed. And who gave you permission to call me that?”

Taeyong blushes and rushes to search his brain for a proper answer.

“I-I’m sorry, Sir.”

“You should be.” Johnny pauses, and the room is dipped in silence for a few torturous moments. Taeyong wants to squirm and wiggle away from Johnny’s hard eyes, but his body is frozen in place, and his mind slows to a stop along with it. “Now answer my question. What is it that you need?”

Taeyong says the first thing that comes to mind, and Johnny’s pleased hum is worth the embarrassment that pricks at his skin.

“Your cock, Sir.”

“Good boy.” Johnny smiles, carding a hand through Taeyong’s locks. He’s still wearing his fluffy sweater, but everything about him screams the opposite of mellow. From the hard line of his shoulders to the way he holds himself up, nothing about him is soft. “Strip.”

Taeyong shivers when Johnny steps away from him, taking with him the only thing keeping him up and standing. His fingers are trembling as he brings his hands down to the hem of his shirt and pulls it up and over himself. He’s thankful when Johnny takes it and folds it neatly, but it doesn’t help with the shaking.

His jeans and socks are off in a second and embarrassment burns from the tips of his toes to the very top of his head, flushing him red with the urge to hide himself. He glances down at his briefs, bulky with the extra volume of the cage.

He sighs.

“Sir…”

“You’re not listening to me today,” Johnny huffs, irritated. “I told you to strip and yet you still stand there in your underwear. Why? Are you embarrassed? Embarrassed of that pathetic little thing you call a dick?”

Taeyong looks away, breath faltering. The condescendence gets to him in ways beyond what he’s showing, makes arousal burn and blood rush south. 

But he still can’t get hard, and it’s making him weaker by the second.

“Taeyong. Strip.”

He can’t bring himself to look at Johnny as he holds onto the waistband of his briefs, but again, Johnny won’t have that, and with one step forward he’s gripping Taeyong’s face and forcing him to meet his eyes. 

Taeyong slides the last piece of clothing keeping him covered down, biting his tongue to stifle a whine when the fabric catches on his dick. He steps out of them with shaky legs.

“There you go,” Johnny says, letting his other hand travel down Taeyong’s torso. “Was it that hard?”

“No, Sir.”

“It wasn’t,” Johnny agrees. His fingers tingle Taeyong’s skin when they dance around his hips, bypassing his cock to brush against his thighs. “You’re still going to be good for me, right?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Are you going to suck me off to prove it?”

Taeyong nods quickly, letting his hair bounce over his eyes the way Johnny likes. It earns him a pat on the cheek and a smile before he’s being pushed down on his knees.

Johnny looks good from here, which shouldn’t be fair. But, frankly, Johnny looks good in any angle if his eyes are as hooded and lustful as they are now. Taeyong is still shaking as he reaches up to undo Johnny’s belt and pull his jeans down, making the task much harder than it should be.

He supposes anything around Johnny becomes harder.

Ha. Certainly not his dick, which is _still trapped in this godforsaken cage_.

Taeyong likes it when Johnny tells him his dick is small, because although it might not be entirely true, it isn’t really a lie either. At least not when he’s compared to the monstrosity Johnny keeps in his pants. 

Much like most things regarding dicks, Taeyong loves sucking them. Especially ones as thick and long as the one in front of him.

He licks his lips and wraps a hand around it. Johnny isn’t even completely hard yet, and the part of Taeyong that has yet to get used to his size marvels at this. He gives a few purposeful tugs, determined to prove how good he is—though he doesn’t think he has to, considering how many times he’s been on his knees for Johnny.

Taeyong doesn’t ease his way down. No, the only warning he gives is a kiss to the tip before he’s taking everything in his mouth, relaxing his throat and pushing until his nose is pressed against Johnny’s pelvis. He feels his dick twitch inside his mouth, just barely hears the hitch in Johnny’s breath, and knows that he’s doing well. Pulling off with a pop, he glances up at Johnny and whines.

“So good, baby,” he’s told. “Keep going.”

So he does, sinking back down and swallowing around the girth before he’s pulling up. He does it again and again, and it really doesn’t take much for Johnny to get rock hard and for the bitter taste of precum to make itself present on Taeyong’s tongue. He loves it, though. It strives him to take Johnny deeper every time, to suck harder on the head until more of it is leaking out. He traces the veins of his dick with his tongue and drags his teeth against it ever so slightly, just the way Johnny likes it.

Taeyong’s lips are stretched wide and every inch of his body feels like its crackling with electricity. He moans, not because he’s been touched, nor because he’s touched himself—god knows what Johnny would do to him if he touched himself—but because he loves every second of this, because hearing Johnny’s deep grunts turns him on to a level that he can’t even begin to explain.

“Shit,” Johnny hisses, and it’s as much of a warning as he gets before there’s thick spurts of cum shooting down his throat.

And being the sex demon he secretly is, Taeyong swallows every last bit of it.

“Jesus, Yong.” Johnny sinks to his knees in front of him and takes his face between his hands. “So perfect.”

Then he’s kissing him, hot and desperately. Taeyong loves it, loves feeling Johnny suck on his tongue, loves the thought of Johnny tasting himself like this, but it isn’t what he wants, what he _needs_.

“Sir,” he moans. “Sir, _please…_ ”

Johnny hums as he brings both his hands down Taeyong’s body, caressing his chest and flicking his nipples until they settle on his waist.

“What is it, baby?” he asks. Taeyong finds it unfair how quickly he’s regaining his composure. The only signs that he’d broken it in the first place are the drops of sweat gathering on his temples and the light blush dusting his cheeks. 

“I-I need…” He stops himself short when a hand rests just above his groin, teasing.

“What do you need, hm?”

Taeyong doesn’t _know_. He needs everything, from Johnny freeing him from his cage to Johnny fucking him senseless like he did just a day ago.

“I gave you what you said you needed, didn’t I?” Johnny speaks while he noses down Taeyong’s throat and bites down on his skin here and there.

“You did, Sir, but I need more.”

“More?”

Taeyong nods, and when Johnny comes up to look at him again, his stomach sinks at the displeased curl of his lips.

“That sounds a bit greedy, doesn’t it?” He lets go of him completely, sitting back on his heels, and Taeyong resists the urge to reach for him. It takes every muscle in his body, but he sits still, with his hands curled into fists at his sides, and shakes his head no. “You don’t think so? Well I do, and if I think it’s greedy what does that mean?”

“It-it means it is greedy.”

“Yes it does. And why’s that?”

Taeyong swallows dryly and closes his eyes. His mind is too much of a mess, it spins at a thousand miles per hour and he has to work to catch up to it.

“Because you’re always right, Sir.”

Johnny’s smile is near blinding, and it’s almost enough to distract Taeyong. Almost, because he feels like his dick hurts more than any type of pain he’s ever felt, and all he wants is to come.

“That’s right. You’re being so good, baby. I’ll give you something as a reward, how does that sound?” 

Taeyong punches through the mist clouding his thoughts to find the proper words.

“G-good. It sounds good, Sir, please…”

“Then what is it that you want?”

He should stop, he should take a deep breath and think about it properly, because the thing about Johnny is that he always finds loopholes. He’s always able to twist what Taeyong says and give him everything he asks for without giving him anything at all.

But he can’t think, not now.

“Please, Sir, I want your fingers.”

He’s lucky, because Johnny understands exactly what he means and is nice enough to give it to him. He lies Taeyong’s body on his bed, chest pushing down on the sheets while his ass hangs in the air, and kisses up his spine.

“So fucking pretty,” he mutters against the back of Taeyong’s neck. “So fucking perfect, aren’t you?”

“S-sir…”

He hears the sound of the lube bottle popping open before he feels it trickling down the crack of his ass, sliding past his hole and dripping onto the cage. He moans at that alone, and when Johnny drags a finger through the mess he squeals in embarrassment.

Taeyong knows he’s loud. Yuta makes sure to tell him this on a daily basis. But he can’t bring himself to be embarrassed, not when he knows how much it riles them up, not when even quiet little Sicheng turns into an absolute monster whenever he moans his name loud enough to hear beyond the walls of his room. They all have an effect on him, strong enough to rock his world and send him reeling into his headspace, but he knows he affects them just as much. And he’s quite proud of this, by the way.

The first finger slips in easily enough, but this isn’t much of a surprise. When Taeyong said Johnny had fucked him good yesterday, he meant that Johnny had fucked him _good_ yesterday. It prods at his insides for just a few moments, barely does anything at all, but Taeyong is losing his mind all the same.

A second wiggles along that one, and he can feel the beginning of a stretch. Johnny’s fingers are thick and long, just like everything about him, and Taeyong knows that Johnny can easily reach his prostate and touch him where it really feels good, but he doesn’t. Yet.

Only when he adds a third finger does he really start to fuck him the way Taeyong loves. He pumps them in and out in time with his moans, drags the tips along his walls before _finally_ reaching his sweet spot.

“Fuck, Sir!”

Johnny doesn’t say anything, continues to fuck his fingers into Taeyong’s hole, but he can feel the weight of his eyes all the same. It feels so good to be touched, to be taken care of, to have Johnny make him feel good.

_Everything about Johnny is good_ , but Taeyong isn’t ready to unpack just how much meaning those words carry. 

When a hand wraps around his caged dick, he sees stars. It isn’t as smooth as he wants, it isn’t as good as he loves, but it’s _something_ and that’s enough to have him crying out. 

“Oh, shit! Sir, Sir…”

“What do you say when I make you feel good?”

Taeyong gasps when Johnny jabs his prostate over and over again in a quick succession of flicks of his wrist. He has to tightly grip onto the sheets to be able to speak.

“Thank you!” he moans. “Thank you, Sir. Thank you, thank you, thank you…”

As he continues to babble into the pillow, Johnny keeps on fucking him and thumbing at his dick on the parts between thin bars. He feels his release close, can sense his orgasm building in the pit of his stomach, and he wants to feel relieved but all he can do is dread what is to come.

Johnny won’t give him his high, he knows it. He’s being too good, touching him too nicely, too soon. Johnny likes to drag out his punishments, he likes to keep them going for as long as Taeyong can handle, and as much as Taeyong thinks over a day is enough time, he just knows that Johnny will disagree.

He’s having too much fun with this, and Taeyong wants to say he agreed to put on the cage in the first place only for his sake, but the truth is, he’s just as turned on by it as his Sir is.

And so, he completely expects it when he’s a moment away from reaching his high and Johnny stops touching him altogether. This doesn’t make it any easier to deal with the feeling of having his orgasm slip right through his fingers. He twitches and shakes, bites onto his bottom lip until there are tears spilling down his cheeks and he lets out the smallest, most pathetic whimpers.

“Easy there,” Johnny says, and he sounds breathless. A weak part of Taeyong is proud to be proven right, proud to know that he can sway Johnny just as much as he sways him. “Calm down, baby, you’re shaking.”

Taeyong whines and buries his face into the crook of his elbow. He doesn’t know what Johnny plans on doing, whether he’ll touch him more or stop for now, but either way his body feels spent and electrifying, like every nerve in it has been set ablaze and all his bones turned to dust.

He gets his answer a moment later when the bed dips beside him and Johnny traces his jaw with a sticky finger. It should be gross, and all sorts of alarms should be going off in Taeyong’s head, but Johnny has pulled him under, too deep for him to listen to the anxious thoughts that’d usually ring through his head for hours on end.

“How about we take a shower?” Johnny asks, and Taeyong can only let out a weak sob. He doesn’t even want to shower. “Come on, baby. It’ll make you feel better.”

“Sir, please, it hurts,” he cries, stumbling over his words from how badly his lungs shake.

“Is it too much?”

Taeyong whines again and squeezes his eyes shut.

“Taeyong, if it’s too much you know what to say.”

Their safeword lingers in the air along with Taeyong’s shuddering breaths. He knows what it is, he has it on the front of his mind and so does Johnny, but he doesn’t say it. He won’t, because as painful as it is, he doesn’t want to stop, and he knows that the second the word slips past his lips Johnny will drop everything and bring an end to this day-long scene.

Instead of answering, he stays silent. He trusts Johnny to read him, to know that he’s still in subspace and doesn’t want to be brought back down to Earth just yet. He thrives in this fuzzy, dreamlike state of mind, it’s in moments like these that he doesn’t have to think about stepping on his right foot or washing his hands until they start to bleed.

He can say his trust is rightfully placed as Johnny takes him in his arms—because he’s so perfect that he’s just as strong as he is beautiful—and carries him to one of their bathrooms. Johnny sets him down on the toilet seat and starts the water while Taeyong does his absolute best to not topple over. Taeyong was smart enough to choose an apartment with a bathtub, and in moments like these, he doesn’t regret the few extra bucks spent in rent at all.

“I’ll be right back,” Johnny mutters, pressing a kiss to Taeyong’s cheek.

“No,” he whines and looks up at him with pleading eyes. “Please, Sir, stay here.”

Johnny smiles, gentle and sweet as he cards his hand through Taeyong’s hair.

“It’ll be quick, I promise.”

And with one more kiss, he’s out the door.

There’s a bit of a sinking feeling in Taeyong’s chest, from being left alone like this, but the sound of the water running and the slow rising mist serve to cradle him. Like he’d promised, Johnny comes back just a few moments later, and Taeyong feels an unexplainable amount of glee when he sees the shampoo bottles he carries. 

“Let’s get you inside, yeah?” Johnny says.

The water is hot against his skin, not enough to burn but enough to leave splotches of red all over his legs and arms. Johnny makes him rest his head against the border of the bathtub, limbs sprawled out underneath the water, and neither of them say much else.

They don’t have to, because all that matters is that Johnny is taking care of him, scrubbing his body clean and washing his hair with sweet shampoo.

With _Johnny’s_ shampoo. 

Taeyong realizes there’s something about being caged that makes it damn near impossible for him not to slip into his headspace. Yesterday he’d struggled the whole time, fought violently to keep his mind grounded and get through his day, through work, through school, through everything that made his routine _his_ routine.

But the second he woke up today he knew something was different. After Johnny had pushed him over and toyed with the power a small, plastic device like the cock cage gave him, Taeyong hadn’t been able to get a proper hold of reality. 

Wearing it makes him feel owned, that’s undeniable. He’d given over all his power, all the control he had over his own pleasure, and there’s nothing more satisfying than that. 

He supposes it’s kind of like what he feels when he wears collars. He’s used to using them in scenes, having someone pull and boss him around with them, to the point that it’s all his brain can associate them with. The second he has one around his neck he knows he’s fucked.

But, unlike the collars, Taeyong doesn’t want to take off his cage. Like, ever.

The Lion King is playing on the TV, per his request, and that’s enough of a signal to know that he’s _deep_ in his subspace. He doesn’t usually get like this, so childish and giddy. He can’t afford to stay so long in his own head, always too busy with school and work.

But it’s Saturday, he’s home and there are more than enough people willing to pamper him when he demands attention. So he lets himself go, doesn’t even try to fight the thick cloud in his head and lets himself feel every spark of emotion jolting his world.

It’s easier like this. Everything is easier like this.

“Baby,” comes Jaehyun’s voice from above him. They’re lying on the couch, with Taeyong’s head resting on his lap while he scratches his scalp. Zazu is in Scar’s bone cage, and Taeyong giggles when he sees it.

He’s also in a cage.

Ha.

“Baby, hey.” He looks up only when Jaehyun tilts his chin, gentle with the way he touches him. “How about we go eat?”

Taeyong pouts. He’s not hungry.

“I’m not hungry.”

“You haven’t eaten since Johnny left, I think it’s time to get some fuel inside that body of yours.”

Right, Johnny. The only downside of it being Saturday is that Johnny has classes all morning and an extracurricular around midday, which means he’ll be gone for the better part of the day. Taeyong doesn’t mind, he knows he’s in good hands—Jaehyun, Yuta and Sicheng treat him almost _too_ well—but the fact that Johnny had taken the key with him sends shivers down his spine.

Once again, his pleasure is way out of reach.

“But I don’t _want_ to eat,” he whines, reaching for the controller to turn the volume up and tune out Jaehyun’s voice. Scar’s giving a dramatic speech, for fuck’s sake. He wants to _hear_ it.

But Jaehyun beats him to it, snatches the remote right out of his hand and pauses the movie.

“Don’t be a brat, now,” he grits, and even in the state he’s in Taeyong notices the way Jaehyun’s trying to be nicer. Usually, when he gets whiny, Jaehyun will use much _rougher_ means.

Which Taeyong also fucking loves. But now he calls for something else, and Jaehyun, despite every bone in his body probably telling him to do something about the brattiness, recognizes what he needs.

“I’m _not_ being a brat,” Taeyong huffs, even though he totally is. He sits up just to plop himself back down on the opposite end of the couch, away from Jaehyun.

“Yes you are,” Jaehyun grumbles. “Come on, Yong, let’s eat.”

“No.”

“Taeyong, I’m going to tell Johnny you’re being bad.”

This makes his heart lurch forward and threaten to jump right out of his chest. He sits up slowly this time, looking at Jaehyun with sad eyes. Judging by the flash of panic on his face, he knows he’s fucked up.

“I’m being bad?”

“No—shit, wait, that’s not what I meant, baby. I just, I was just trying to—”

“You’re not being bad,” comes Sicheng’s voice. Taeyong looks behind himself to see his roommate crouching down beside the couch and taking both his hands in his. “Jaehyun didn’t mean to say that. Right Jaehyun?”

Jaehyun nods quickly, and the way his hair bounces kind of reminds Taeyong of a puppy. 

Cute. He grins.

“But that doesn’t mean you’re being good, either.”

The grin drops.

“You can be good, though,” Sicheng continues, calmly. There’s something about him, about his light brown hair and soft eyes, that has Taeyong reeling. “All you have to do is eat. And don’t worry, you’ll like it. It’s Hot Pot, I made it.”

Taeyong perks up.

“The one with dumplings?”

Sicheng smiles as he helps him up the couch, never letting go of his hand. 

“What would be Hot Pot without dumplings?”

Yuta’s already at the table, one leg propped up on it while he eats. He drops it as soon as he sees Taeyong, but Taeyong isn’t bothered by it. The irked thoughts screaming about hygiene and germs aren’t there, just a happy hum ringing inside his skull.

“Hi, baby,” Yuta says, smiling so brightly it’s almost blinding. Taeyong doesn’t hesitate to plant a kiss on his lips, sit beside him and rest his head on Yuta’s shoulder. It earns him an amused laugh that makes him happy.

They eat peacefully, the three of them chatting while Taeyong keeps to himself. He likes it better this way, quietly listening to them, and they are always keen on giving him what he likes. 

Fuck, how did he get this lucky?

By the time Johnny returns, Taeyong is fast asleep on the couch. He wakes up on Johnny’s bed, only to realize he’d been carried all the way over, and a warm feeling blooms in his chest.

He doesn’t expect there to be anybody with him, but when he turns around he’s met with Johnny, who’s looking at him with a small smile and a glint in his eyes. He isn’t wearing a shirt, and Taeyong can see miles of muscle and golden skin— _holy fuck_.

“Johnny,” he whines, because everything he says turns into a whine.

“Hello, there.” Johnny grips onto his sides and helps him up until he has himself a lapful of Taeyong, who doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms and legs around him and stick onto his body like an octopus. “Did you miss me?”

“Yes,” Taeyong says, because even if he had people there to keep him in check, none of them were Johnny. 

Taeyong feels a spark of fear at that thought. He’s been feeling too many things for the man and he knows he has to stop himself before he ends up getting hurt like so many times before.

But for now, he basks in his presence, buries his nose in Johnny’s neck and digs his hands into his hair. He’s here right now, just him and Taeyong and nobody else. For as long as Taeyong can convince himself, he believes that nothing else exists beyond the walls of this room.

Johnny is gentler this time around. They kiss until their lips feel numb and easily lose track of time. Taeyong starts to grow needy, desperate, and rolls his hips down in time with the swipes of Johnny’s tongue against the roof of his mouth. 

“Sir,” he moans when he feels Johnny start to harden underneath him. “Sir, please, I’ve been so good.”

“I know,” Johnny says, bucking up to meet Taeyong’s ass. “Yuta told me. Said you were the sweetest baby all day.”

Taeyong keens.

“I _was_.”

“Yes you were. And you want a reward, don’t you?”

He pulls back from where he’d been nibbling at Johnny ears to look him in the eye. He looks so good like this, hair messy and eyes hooded. Taeyong shivers.

“Only if you think I deserve one, Sir.”

“Oh?” Johnny says, surprised. “Why are you being so good all of the sudden? Just this morning I was about to whip your bratty ass.”

“I wanna make you happy,” Taeyong mumbles, looking away shyly.

“Yeah? Or do you just want me to take this off?”

Taeyong jumps when Johnny slaps his cock lightly. His knees slide against the bedsheets, pushing him closer to Johnny’s body.

“Anything, Sir,” he moans. “I want anything you give me.”

For a few moments, Johnny’s silent. The only sound in the room comes from the rustling of Taeyong’s clothes as he continues to grind down. His fingers dance nervously along Johnny’s bare chest, unsure of what’s about to happen. 

“You’re such a sweet thing,” he finally says. Taeyong looks up, surprised by the sheer sincerity of his voice. Johnny’s looking at him like he’s the only thing in the world, like he couldn’t care about anything else.

Taeyong realizes he’s falling.

It’s such a raw, intense emotion that it nearly wrenches him right out of his peaceful headspace. The fear that claws at his throat, and the anxiety eating him from the inside out, they hurt him.

But Johnny, sweet Johnny, he realizes just in time. Without another word, he plants a firm hand on Taeyong’s neck and pulls him in until their lips meet in a rough kiss.

A reminder, that for now, he is in Johnny’s hands. 

“Since you’re being so good,” Johnny says. His stern tone is back, and the assertiveness in his words is like a whiplash. “I’ll give you what you want.”

Without warning, he flips them over and sits back on his heels. Taeyong barely has the time to process what just happened before his shorts and underwear are being pulled off in one go. He gasps when Johnny cups his caged cock.

“Look at this thing,” he chuckles. “It looks so stupid, doesn’t it?”

“S-sir!” Taeyong cries. He feels the familiar burn of arousal in the pit of his stomach, and it sends him whirling. 

“You can’t even get hard.” He flicks over the head. “It’s almost a shame to unlock it.”

Taeyong’s head spins. Part of him dreads taking the cage off, but the other part, which screams louder than anything else, celebrates his cock’s freedom.

And yeah, he knows how stupid that sounds. 

“Sir?”

“Take off your shirt, baby,” Johnny says, letting go of Taeyong’s cock and reaching into his pocket.

Taeyong sits up and pulls his shirt over his head shakily. Everything feels a hundred times more intense, including the buzz of electricity jumping all over his skin. His body quivers in anticipation.

“That’s it.” Taeyong hears the jingle of metal before he spots the key in Johnny’s hand. His heartbeat picks up as his Sir grabs a hold of his dick and inserts the key into the lock.

It opens with a small click.

The rush of blood makes Taeyong gasp, and he can only watch pathetically as his cock _finally_ fills out and grows hard. The sensation in itself is almost too much to bear, but then Johnny’s grabbing his dick and rubbing it between his fingers and Taeyong knows he’s done for.

“Fuck!” he moans, throwing his head back. Johnny continues to jack him off, pull his foreskin back and fiddle with the head until he’s twitching and writhing against the sheets.

“You’re so sensitive, baby,” he says, pressing Taeyong’s hip down onto the bed to stop him from wiggling away. “Looks like you could come right now if you wanted to.”

“Oh my—fuck, Sir!” Taeyong buries one of his hands into his own hair and pulls to try and distract himself from how _much_ everything feels. “Please, plea-please!”

“What is it?” Johnny hums. “I’m already touching you, what else do you need, baby?”

Taeyong swears his body is on fire. It feels so good to finally have his dick hard and touched without the barrier of plastic bars. Johnny flicks his wrist just the way he likes it, stops at the head to tease and fondles with his balls using his other hand. 

He’s right. If Taeyong really wanted to, he could come right now, just from this. But he wants something else.

“I need you, Sir! I need you to fuck me, please! Please…”

Johnny growls, low and guttural, and all but wrenches the lube bottle open. It trickles down Taeyong’s dick, dripping obscenely onto his hole and _fuck_ suddenly everything feels so _wet_.

Johnny doesn’t take his time fingering him. He’s still gentle and careful as he pries Taeyong open, but he’d already been loose since the day before and there really isn’t much stretching needing to be done.

And if it weren’t for Taeyong’s desperate pleas to just stop and fuck him already, Johnny would have continued to fuck him with his fingers for much longer. But Taeyong had grown too desperate too quickly and his pent up orgasm came knocking at the door when Johnny jabbed his prostate.

“Fuck me, Sir,” Taeyong moans, if only to rile him up even further. “Please fuck me good.”

“I will baby,” Johnny grunts. “I always do, don’t I?”

“Yes!” Taeyong cries out when he feels the fat tip of Johnny’s dick prodding at his entrance. “Y-yes, you always do. I love your cock, Sir, I love it.”

When Johnny presses in, Taeyong sees stars. He wasn’t lying, he truly loves Johnny’s dick. He’d be as shallow as saying it’s one of his favorite parts about him.

(Which is a lie, but at the moment he couldn’t give two shits.)

Johnny thrusts into his prostate just perfectly. It isn’t overbearing and it isn’t underwhelming, it’s absolutely fucking phenomenal and Taeyong can physically feel his coherent thoughts jump right out the window. He doesn’t have space in his mind or body for anything other than the hot pleasure he’s being given, so good it makes him moan and squeal a senseless string of words.

At some point, his eyes threaten to close. But he doesn’t let them, he forces them open to be able to take in the sight of Johnny hovering over him, one hand balancing himself on the mattress and the other gripping his waist so hard it will certainly bruise. There are pieces of his hair falling over his face, and he gets so close that Taeyong feels them brush against his own cheeks and has to stop himself from giggling over how much it tickles.

They’ve fucked like this countless times before, but with Taeyong’s responsive body and the noises he spills, a consequence of his sensitivity, they’re both driven to the edge rapidly. Johnny fucks him in a rhythm that’s quick and steady, until it isn’t. It’s easy to tell when gets close—he starts to grunt in the back of his throat, busies himself with biting Taeyong’s ears, and his hips stutter in their steady thrusts. It throws them both off balance, and Taeyong knows he’s done for when Johnny wraps a hand around his dick and mutters lowly, “Come for me, baby.”

His orgasm hits him like a truck. He arches his back and opens his mouth wide, squeezing his eyes shut as his dick shoots ropes of cum in between their bodies. It feels so amazing that it doesn’t even end there. His high continues as Johnny fucks him faster and harder, until he too is moaning and stilling deep inside Taeyong’s body as he comes and _comes_.

Taeyong can barely feel his toes by the time Johnny pulls out. He keeps his eyes closed, chest heaving as his lungs try to catch up with his body.

“Hey, baby,” comes Johnny's voice at the same time that Taeyong feels a hand on his cheek. “You with me?”

“I’m with you,” he whispers. “Always with you.”

“Look at me.” 

He opens his eyes slowly, giving him time to adjust to the glorious sight in front of him. Johnny basks in his post-orgasm glow, looking almost angelic with the sheen of sweet on his golden skin. Taeyong wouldn’t be surprised if a halo suddenly popped up over his head.

“Baby, you did so good.”

He smiles.

He still feels like he’s going to die. His orgasm nearly ripped him to shreds, and his body is tired in a bone-deep level he can’t even begin to explain. But he’s fine, he’s okay, and he distantly thinks he wouldn’t mind dying in Johnny’s arms.

Even if he’s visibly exhausted, Johnny takes his time to clean them up. Although Taeyong finds it a bother now, he knows that his future self would have freaked the fuck out if he’d woken up covered in cum and sweat.

When they’re bathed and laying on pristine clean sheets, he looks at the bedside table from where he’s resting on Johnny’s chest. The cage sits there, clean after Johnny had taken the care to wash it thoroughly, and Taeyong feels his insides thrum in excitement.

He isn’t sure about a lot of things, like why his heart picks up when he’s this close to Johnny. But one thing he can be certain of is that he’s going to be using that shit again.

“It’s actually a pretty common thing,” Ten says after he takes a long sip of his coffee.

They’ve just closed up the café, leaving only the two of them inside. Ten likes eating the leftovers—he says he’s just helping the planet since they’d just be thrown away anyways—but Taeyong squirms in discomfort at the very thought of eating treats that stayed on display for well over a day. 

“Are you sure? I know for a fact your idea of common is fucked up.”

“I’m serious.” Ten leans over the table until Taeyong meets his eyes. He does look serious. “It _is_ common. Subs like using chastity devices, especially when they want to feel embarrassed, or owned.”

Taeyong blushes furiously but resists the urge to change the subject. When it comes to sex, Ten knows his shit, and hearing these things is, albeit embarrassing, a way to make him feel less like a freak. 

“There’s nothing weird about it, honestly,” Ten continues. “Most people where them for much longer than you did. If I’d known you were into that I would’ve given you a cage ages ago.”

Taeyong furrows his brows. He weighs his next words carefully.

“I’m not so sure I’d like it with anyone else,” he says, softly, “besides Johnny.”

To his relief, Ten doesn’t look hurt. Surprised, yes, but far from offended. He sits up, head tilted to the side and eyes wide open. Taeyong looks away.

“I see,” Ten says. “And is this just about the cage thing or is there more to it?”

Taeyong feels his stomach flip. This is the part he dreads, these are the feelings he’ll push away into the back of his mind and cover with obsessions over left and right. He wants to ignore the flutter of his heart whenever he sees Johnny. He wants to pretend he can act like anybody else around the tall, gentle giant that wears soft sweaters and has an obsession with coffee.

But he won’t. He can’t, really.

“I think there’s more to it,” he whispers.

“Fucking finally,” Ten says. When Taeyong looks up, he sees he’s smiling from ear to ear. “Finally you’ve fallen for a guy that will treat you right. You deserve that shit, Yong.”

“He doesn’t even like me,” Taeyong says, trying to squash the bit of hope that rose with Ten’s words. “At least not like _that_.”

To his dismay, Ten snorts at him.

“Trust me,” he says. “You couldn’t be more wrong.”

For a moment, he lets himself believe in what Ten tells him. For a moment, he opens his eyes to a world where Johnny takes him out for dinner and buys him roses on Valentine's day. For a moment, he hopes.

Before he knows it, he’s smiling.

Taeyong’s life has always been rocky, but the past few months have been some of the best he’s ever lived through. From moving in with some of his closest friends to learning every small detail about them, he has not regretted a single day.

And now? Now he has a chance. This time around, he’s falling because he wants to. He jumped, be it intentionally or not, because he knew that there’d be people willing to catch him if he misses. 

“Enough of me,” he says, keeping the thought away for later. “Tell me who you’ve been sleeping with, because I know for a fact that nobody you fuck leaves _that many_ hickeys.”

Ten doesn’t even have the decency to blush. He just reaches a hand up to his neck, mauled with purple and red bruises, and smiles. Taeyong doesn’t miss the softness in his eyes.

“It’s nobody,” Ten lies.

Taeyong grins and shakes his head.

“If you say so.”

**Author's Note:**

> (casually disappears for three months and comes back like it was nothing)  
> Hey, you reached the end!  
> I tried to relate Taeyong's headspace/subspace with a peaceful mindset where his phobia and his disorder don't bother him as much, so hopefully I did it right! haha  
> I wonder how Johnny feels about him hehe.... we shall see :3  
> I'll try to post more often!! I'm so sorry I disappeared, I've been busy with school since tests started and I began a project that has nothing to do with this, but I don't want to abandon this series. I like the direction it's going, and hopefully you'll enjoy it too.  
> Please comment what you thought, I appreciate every little thing! And if you have a request, feel free to tell me and I'll see how I can fit it in the story. I already have one request for a Ten X anyone fic (I HAVEN'T FORGOTTEN ABOUT YOU DON'T WORRY) but other than that there's nothing so please go ahead and gimme your requests :D  
> Thanks for reading and until next time! Please stay safe and eat a lot >:(


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